Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his whole universe belongs to J. K. Rowling and her associates. I'm just having a good time playing with it all, and I - unlike the owner - don't make a penny from it.

A/N: Hi. I'm back - sort of. I'll say it straight: This fic serves no purpose at all, other than satisfying my own curiosity. So many people wanted to know what happened next that I wound up wanting to know too, so I set off to find out - in between stays at the hospital. I'm seriously contemplating moving my address there...

What I've tried to do is to give a little more background. Reasons for Harry and Victoire getting together, and reasons for Harry and Gabrielle not to. It also gives my thoughts on what Veela are, and how and why they're different than the rest of us.

Lastly: It's funny you know... I've had two dozen reviews and twice as many PMs on Runaway?. More than half of them comment on the age difference between Harry and Victoire, but not a single one has anything to say about the blatant violation of the law that is an adult knowingly helping to hide away a missing minor from her family. Go figure...

Runaway...? - Reactions

The last object is a Portkey. It will transport only two people, and it will activate on Saturday the 7th at noon. We're looking forward to seeing you.

Sorry for disturbing your party.

Love, H, V & I Potter

You may now give George his present.

The silence was so complete, one could've heard a hair grow. Everybody looked at each other, completely at a loss about how to react to the bomb that had so casually been dropped in their midst.

Molly Weasley was - besides being struck speechless for what had to be the first time in her life - slowly turning purple from a mixture of shock and anger. Harry Potter, the one she'd tagged as her son-in-law more than 25 years ago, had not only defied her - which was bad enough - but he'd gone and married her eldest granddaughter, the one she'd never been able to influence. And worse... They'd already made her a great grandmum. She wasn't even 70 yet! She would have to do something to express her displeasure, but for the life of her she couldn't think of what.

...

Bill Weasley could be bowled over with a feather. He'd just seen his eldest daughter - or at least a fresh image of her - for the first time in almost three years. His eldest daughter who had not only married Harry Potter - and he wasn't quite sure what to think of that - but now was a mother to boot. He was a granddad! Well... He wasn't all that sure how he felt about that either. All in all he was happy to see his princess looking as happy and healthy as she'd been insisting she was; undecided about her getting married and having a baby of her own at her age, and just a wee bit mad at Harry for hiding her from her parents and for marrying her without even having the courtesy of letting him and Fleur know. At least it sounded like he'd be in a position to demand explanations next weekend, from what his wife just read. And thinking of said wife... Looking at her he couldn't help but think that something in the way she reacted was off. Maybe he should ask her a few pointed questions when they got back home.

...

Fleur was acutely aware of the searching looks she got from her husband, but she wasn't enough of an actress to pull off a 'greatest surprise ever' routine, so she didn't even try. Instead she picked up one of the pictures of the new family and busied herself with an intense study of her daughter and grandson, while keeping up with the reactions of the family through surreptitious sideways glances. Her husband showed every sign of an interrogation coming up, likely because she hadn't reacted like he'd expect. She could live with that until Saturday. Her mother-in-law was clearly gathering steam for a classic Molly Weasley rant, although Fleur couldn't see what she had to rant about since nothing in this had anything to do with her. Of course she didn't have any doubts that it would be about disrespecting one's elders (since she couldn't say that it was because Harry hadn't married her precious daughter like she wanted him to) and about being irresponsible and ruining poor Victoire's life. She suddenly felt even better about not reading the part of the letter out loud where Harry had said that Molly had been right all along, that apparently it was his destiny to marry a Weasley. She really didn't want to think about how Molly - not to mention Ginny - would've reacted to that one. In fact she didn't want to concentrate on anything but the knowledge that in six days she'd be able to hold her grandson for the first time. She couldn't wait. It was going to be a long week.

...

In stark contrast to Fleur's feelings of anticipation and quiet joy, Ginevra Weasley's most prominent feeling right now was one of complete devastation. She'd been rattled badly by a couple of Harry's latest, communal letters, but had managed to make herself believe - ably helped by her mother - that they were just a bit of payback from the days when she'd done what she could to make him jealous. Now she'd just seen proof that they were in fact telling the truth. Harry had indeed married. He'd married her own eldest niece of all people! And they'd had a baby. The loveliest little boy - so much like the children she used to dream about giving him.

That's when it hit her. 'Dream about'. A dream... That was all it had ever been, and not even a dream of her own. A dream of her mother's, projected onto her, and she had placed her life on hold for twenty years because of it. Other than eight not quite satisfactory years in Quidditch, and a couple of brief and equally unsatisfactory flings fifteen years ago, she'd never really had a life away from her mother and the Burrow. She'd be 37 this summer, and she had never truly lived! That was going to change. She was going to write Harry and Victoire a letter to congratulate them, which Bill and Fleur could take to them next weekend. Once she'd done that, she'd spend her savings from her playing days to buy herself a place to live, and then she'd take the screaming match with her mother. She had a lot of things to scream at her about!

When all of the above was done, it would be time for her to be her own woman and begin living. Who knew, she might even go and find herself a young man. After all she was still young herself, and she still got appreciative looks on a regular basis. Maybe it was time to look a little herself? She smiled. Perhaps broken dreams were not as bad as they were said to be? Well... At least not when they weren't really your own in the first place.

...

Hermione saw the crushed look on her sister-in-law's face and winced. The Burrow was not likely to be a happy place for the foreseeable future, at least not if Ginny's expression added to Molly's colour was any indication.

Frankly the whole thing disturbed her to a degree. Oh, she was happy that Harry had finally found someone, and she was just as happy that Victoire was safe, sound and loved, but if her suspicions were right - and they usually were - Harry was liable to be charged with coercion and with hiding a missing minor from her parents, if not with outright kidnapping. A glance at Percy told her that he was already on the case so she let the subject drop for now.

Instead she thought about what she'd just learnt, and tried to match this new picture with the one she still had of her friend and - although she'd never admit it to anybody but herself - crush from school. They didn't fit together, just as her image of her niece from three years ago didn't match the one of the radiant young wife and mother she'd just seen. It didn't occur to her that her mental image of Harry was from half his life ago, and that he'd lived and learnt much harder and faster than her these past eighteen years, and it didn't cross her mind that leaving her home to find love, getting married and having a baby would make her young, innocent niece grow up at a faster rate than her peers. She would get it eventually, but not for a few weeks yet. Right now she was just wishing and hoping that she'd get the chance to talk to Harry. She really wanted to know why he'd left so abruptly. She'd been having flashes of conversations about that very subject, but she couldn't remember ever having them. Real or not, they disturbed her a great deal because they involved a pregnant Victoire - something she'd never had a chance to see - and accusations that she'd been instrumental in driving Harry away. She couldn't understand it. She was certain she'd never had those conversations, and she'd never do anything to hurt Harry - much less drive him out of the country. Heck, she'd been hoping that he'd finally get the picture and ask her out back in those days, just before he left.

With a sigh she left her trail of thoughts behind and looked up. To her consternation she discovered that Ginny was smiling! She really needed a few talks with a few people if she was to understand anything that was going on right now.

...

Percival Weasley was torn. On one side was Harry Potter - the one he and the rest of Magical Britain (if not the whole world) owed everything for giving them back their lives and their freedom. There was also his niece Victoire, the main - almost only - source of worry for the Weasley family for the last three years. He owed the first and he dearly loved the second, and now he'd just seen for himself that they were both healthy, happy and loved, much more so than anybody had dared hope. That counted for a lot, even more since the images had clearly shown a happy and loving little family, something Percy could greatly appreciate.

Contrary to popular belief, Percival Ignatius Weasley was not made of wood with a block of granite for a heart and Ministerial decrees for a mind. No, he was in very firm contact with his emotions, and what he'd just seen tugged on his heartstrings and lifted a weight off his mind. Yes, Percy the family man was delighted for Harry and Victoire, something his Ministerial co-workers would've been astonished to know.

On the other side, Percival the civil servant did not like what he'd seen. He was certain that Victoire had been with Harry the whole time after she ran away, and that made Harry a criminal. Oh, he had no doubts that returning Victoire to her parents once she'd met up with him would've resulted in tantrums, fireballs and an immediate escape, but one thing was love and family, and another was the word of the law. That was why he was torn in the first place. The two guiding forces in his life were at odds in this particular instance. That's when he happened to glance at Audrey, his wife and the mother of his children. He saw a soft smile and suspiciously bright eyes and his mind was almost made up. Next he looked at Fleur... and he caved. He was not going to drag what caused that pride and that wistful expression to court!

With a sigh he sat back in his chair, picked up his drink and silently toasted his sister-in-law.

...

Charles Weasley was a simple man. That wasn't in any negative sense; he was as smart as they came, and he was an internationally renowned expert in his chosen field of work, but he was wired in a simpler way than most of his family. Therefore he had never really understood the fuss about Harry Potter and his leaving Britain all those years ago. Heck, both he and his older brother had done the same, although Bill had eventually moved back. Harry had probably felt the insular and backwards attitudes of Magical society too tight around his shoulders, and then he'd left in search of something more roomy and comfortable. He'd even written more often than Charlie himself ever had, and no matter what anybody said and thought, Harry had been of age and fully capable of making his own decisions.

Victoire... Well... okay, she hadn't been of age when she left, but everybody knew that Veela were impetuous, headstrong, early developed, and not very good at listening to advice that didn't support their own ideas. If she'd actually had her heart set on getting to Harry, he couldn't see how anybody could've persuaded her otherwise. No, as far as Charlie was concerned, Harry and Victoire getting together was a good thing, and several members of his family needed to pull their heads out of their nether orifices and quit being bloody stupid about it. He was happy for Harry that he'd finally found the one for him, and for Victoire for being blessed with finding love and returning it at such a young age, and ultimately the whole affair was their business and nobody else's.

With that thought he left his place at the table and made his way towards Fleur, intent on studying this novel use of the fruits of his trade that his niece and nephew-in-law had come up with. Who knew, it might just be a new way of getting some funding for the Reserve.

...

Teddy Lupin was terribly amused. In fact he was so entertained that he had to fight hard to keep his hair-colour in check and to keep hysterical laughter from bursting out.

While not technically a Weasley, he'd been declared one by virtue of being the godson of Harry and Hermione, and when adding the fact that he was Moony's son it was imperative that he attend the birthday party for the self-proclaimed 'greatest prankster of the new millennium'. Heh! If George knew half of what Teddy did, he'd drop to his knees and worship him.

Despite - or perhaps because of - everything, Harry had made sure to come and see Teddy at least twice a year since he left, later alternating with Teddy coming to stay with him during holidays. On top of that he'd always been able to owl him if any 'boy-issues' came up that Andromeda couldn't help him with. It had been Harry who consoled him after his heart had been broken four years ago - or at least he'd thought it'd been broken. After a couple of years worth of false starts he'd finally summoned up the courage to ask the girl of his dreams out. He'd been looking at Victoire ever since he found out why boys and girls were different, but she'd rejected him. She had been very gentle and understanding, but it was a rejection nevertheless and he had been completely crushed until he'd heard back from Harry. Then he'd understood. Harry had explained to him that Veela as a general rule sought out spouses several years older than themselves - something about an instinctive search for mates with proven survival skills, skills no sixteen year-old could prove to have unless he just happened to be Harry Potter. The seven years between Bill and Fleur was actually less than the norm but could probably be explained with Bill being quite a lot more experienced than his peers, and a tested veteran in a dangerous profession to boot. Much the same were Harry's thoughts on why Fleur's sister, Gabrielle, had kept chasing him for more than ten years after he left Britain despite being only just over five years younger than him. That had helped Teddy a lot with getting over it, and he had made sure to properly apologise to Victoire for placing her in an awkward situation by not doing his research. The warm hug and dazzling smile he got in return stayed with him for a long time.

A year and a half ago he'd learnt the rest of the story. Harry had invited him and his gran to his home in France, and warned Teddy that he was expected to function as his best man while they were there. Teddy had been shocked, and even more so when he finally met Harry's mysterious fiancée. There in Harry's home, greeting him with an encore of the hug and smile he still cherished, had been his long time crush, looking more radiant than ever. At first he'd been miffed, but Harry told him that at least on his side this was newer than the rejection fiasco although he suspected that Victoire had already had her mind made up back then. Teddy had accepted that, and to be honest... That it took Harry Potter to beat him was actually kind of a boost.

Looking around the room, Teddy began to calculate. He and Victoire had a wager running on various family members' reactions, and by his tally he was now 25 Galleons richer. Having calculated that, he sat back and set his mind firmly on the blonde hair, cornflower-blue eyes, rosy cheeks and enticing curves of sixteen year-old Alice Longbottom, who had graciously - even eagerly - accepted his suggestion that they should go out on a date on Hogsmeade weekend next week. Now just to find some way to charm Hannah Longbottom and at the same time avoid 'uncle' Neville's wrath. Oh well... Challenges and a little danger. What was life without it?

...

Angelina Weasley was surprised. Not so much about the Harry-Victoire situation although she'd readily admit that she hadn't seen that particular one coming, but come on! This was Harry for magic's sake, and although she hadn't seen him in almost eighteen years, she knew him well enough from their school days to always expect the unexpected from him and so should everybody else who knew him - and that included everybody gathered today but the children. He was expected to either sign up for a pro-Quidditch team or join the Auror force, and he was supposed to get married early to either Ginny or Hermione, so of course he didn't. Nobody had expected him to leave the country; he definitely wasn't pegged to earn multiple masteries, and nobody would've even begun to calculate odds on him waiting to marry until he was 36, what with witches of all ages and stations in life throwing themselves at him everywhere he turned, back in those crazy days. Yet he had done it all his own way in his own time, and Angelina silently applauded him for it.

Knowing all that - and knowing Harry like all these people should - she failed to understand the consternation that seemed to have hit everybody. Well... Almost everybody. It seemed to her that Ginny might have just had an epiphany, and that at least Fleur and Teddy might have had some warning in advance. The rest of them... Feh! So Harry had gotten married? They should be happy for him. He'd married Victoire? Yes, so? Knowing her, Angelina was certain that she'd had it all planned out for years, and that she'd left Britain - if she had indeed left, nobody knew where she'd gone after all - fully prepared to battle Harry's stubbornness for as long as it took and to counter any argument he could come up with other than 'I don't want you'.

Angelina loved the family she'd married into, she really did, but half the time - like now - she completely failed to understand them. Everything else aside, they should all know that Harry would rather suffer Hell than hurt Victoire in any way. In her estimation, Victoire had landed herself the catch of several centuries, and her family should be happy about it.

Her musings were rudely interrupted by the first noise since Fleur read out the letter that wasn't an inarticulate expression of disbelief. She turned and looked at her husband, the perpetual little boy, with her trademark expression of fond exasperation as he rolled on the floor, roaring with laughter while battling - and losing to - the enchanted slinky he'd received from his niece and his main investor. At least George was predictable. He'd never grow up.

...

After several minutes of silence - not counting George's laughing fit - and stunned disbelief, Arthur Weasley was the one to break the communal stupor. He'd been watching them all while he'd contemplated the news in his own quiet, level-headed fashion, and when he thought they'd all had enough time to process things, he spoke:

"Well that was certainly unexpected." Then he lifted his glass. "To Harry, Victoire and little Ian. May they know only positive times, and may they stay happy and healthy."

One by one the gathered Weasleys shook themselves out of their musings and rose. Well... Every Weasley but a fuming Ronald who was rapidly building up an explosive head of steam. He couldn't believe it. Here was a confession from the miserable son of a bitch who was responsible for ruining his prospects eighteen years ago that he had betrayed their family once again, not to mention taken advantage of his underaged niece, and his father stood and toasted him! Was he really the only one who could see Harry bloody Potter for what he was? Even Ginny looked happy. She was smiling when she'd just learnt that her man had cheated on her! Someone had to do something about that charlatan, and Ronald Weasley might just be the one who'd have to do it. But first he'd have to make his family see reality.

This particular Ronald Weasley detonation of self-righteousness and bad temper, as well as the following Hermione and Fleur Weasley diatribe and impressive/depressing listing of Ronald's flaws and faults as a husband, father, friend, brother and human being, would go on to become an epic in the Weasley family legends for the next century. Whatever else could be said about George's 40th birthday celebration, if was certainly memorable.

Harry was anything but calm. He'd been fidgeting all morning, and now he was pacing in the back corridor where the warded portkey- and apparition point was located because Victoire finally grew tired of laughing at him and threw him out of the kitchen to allow her to concentrate on her cooking. There was a reason why Victoire was the one to make lunch today. Harry in his current state would probably burn down the whole building.

Bah! Who cared about cooking when he was about to meet an old friend and war-comrade who he hadn't seen in almost eighteen years, as well as his honorary sister who just happened to be the aforementioned old friend's wife - not to mention that said old friend and said honorary sister just happened to be the parents of the runaway girl he'd taken in and later married without their knowledge or consent. He was toast! He swallowed noisily and checked his watch for the seventh time in five minutes and then resumed his pacing.

True, Fleur had been in the know from very early on in this venture, but somehow he had the feeling that since Bill hadn't known, it might not help their cause at all. Bill was just as liable to curse first as ask later as he would've been if Fleur didn't know anything. Yup, he was toast.

He looked at his watch again. Three minutes to one. Damn! He was going to have a stroke this way. Then he heard a giggle behind him and turned to face his wife.

"Relax, mon cher. Maman loves you, and she will keep Papa in line." She held out a glass to him. "Here. Take this and calm down. We are going to have a nice lunch; we will talk about everything reasonably like civilised human beings; Maman will dote on Ian, and nothing bad will happen."

Harry looked deeply into her eyes and saw her conviction. He took the proffered glass and inhaled deeply. A good wine was something he'd come to appreciate over the last two decades, and the local product was one of the best. Strong in alcohol and robust in taste, it suited the local cuisine in particular and his preferences in general, and just a few sips had his anxiety dropping to manageable levels. Well... Manageable until a chime announced that somebody had arrived in the portkey room that was.

Harry heaved a deep sigh, gave the glass to Victoire and sent her back to the kitchen by way of a slap in her shapely derrière. "Go on and mind your cooking, Chérie. If he kills me, I'd rather that you're not here to see it." Then he squared his shoulders, ignored his wife's death glare and went to open the door to the warded room.

"Harry Potter! What kind of way is this to greet your in-laws? Where is my grandson?" Fleur's beaming smile and enthusiastic hug belied her stern words, and Harry hugged her back with feeling.

"He's napping," he informed her, "and his mother has fine-tuned at least a dozen fireballs for whoever disturbs him. He's a right menace if he doesn't get his sleep, just like his old dad," he continued with a grin. Then his expression sobered. "Have you talked?"

Fleur nodded solemnly.

"And your house is still standing?" She nodded again.

"Right. Your daughter is in the kitchen. It's down that way," he pointed behind him. "I'll abduct your husband for half an hour or so. Just yell when lunch is ready."

As Fleur disappeared down the corridor, Harry met Bill's steely gaze.

"Bill," he greeted him in an even voice. "Long time... Are we going to talk rationally or do I need to locate my wand?"

Bill blinked. "Harry," he returned the greeting. "That depends on whether I like your answers or not," he growled.

Harry sighed in disappointment and looked the older man in the eyes. "Wrong answer Bill." He shook his head. "Dead wrong. You see, the two of us fighting would hurt Victoire, and that's not something I'm going to allow. Now, care to try again?"

Bill blinked again. He'd envisioned himself laying into Harry from the start, but his words - not to mention the very real threat in his eyes - made it clear that that scenario would stay nothing more than a vision.

"Okay," he conceded, "we'll talk, but I still want answers, and they'd better be good ones."

"You'll get answers Bill, but whether you'll think they're good or not I don't know. They'll be the truth though, and to me that seems more important." He saw that Bill was as steely as ever and sighed. "Come on," he beckoned. "We'll talk in the garden."

Bill was doing a lot of blinking today. He was doing it again as he followed his host out through the back door into the sunshine. He had of course expected Harry to have grown up over the past two decades, but the man in front of him bore very little resemblance to the weary war-survivor, or to the perpetually hunted and haunted boy he used to know. This Harry was at ease with himself and the world, and he was confident in his abilities and his choices. This Harry wouldn't be intimidated by the 'angry father routine', nor would he take kindly to being subjected to it. It threw Bill for a few seconds. On one side his rational self couldn't fault his daughter for her choice - and he was well aware that this was Victoire's choice before it became Harry's - but on the other side the protective father in him wanted nothing more than to lay into this man, who'd dared touch his daughter, with everything he had, and he'd arrived here fully prepared to do just that. However it seemed that the only road open to him now was that of the man-to-man talk, and Harry's expectant look confirmed that. He heaved a disgruntled sigh as he sat down on a bench and looked Harry in the eyes.

"Why?"

Harry's eyebrows lifted. "Why what?" He tilted his head. "'Why Victoire?' Or 'why did I leave Britain?' Or 'why are we born into this world when eventually we all have to die?'" He looked amused. "You'll have to qualify that one Bill."

Bill glared at him. "Okay. Why here? And where is 'here' for a start."

"We're in Châteauneuf-du-Pape in the Rhône Valley, home of some of the best wines in the world. As for 'why?' This is my home." He shrugged. "It has been for almost seventeen years. I bought this place just after I left Greenland in 2001 because I felt I needed some place I could call my own. Some place where I could have some peace and quiet. That meant that Britain was out of the question, so it was either here or in Callao in Peru, and I really liked it here. It's an added bonus that Victoire absolutely loves the place as well."

That was a major surprise to Bill. He had thought that Harry had only moved here after getting together with Victoire, possibly as a way to keep her away from her family. This little talk might prove interesting.

"Okay, I can see why you'd like it here." He really could. The climate was several hundred percent nicer than that of dreary old England, and from visits with the in-laws he liked the people and the generally relaxed attitudes of the area.

"Why now then? You've hidden yourself away for eighteen years - you even hid when you taught at Hogwarts - and you've been hiding Victoire for almost three years, so why are you coming out in the open now?" Harry frowned at him.

"First of all, I haven't been hiding Victoire. She's been hiding herself, although her mother has known where she was - and with who - all along, as I'm sure she's already told you. She's been hiding from everybody else because she's been where she wants to be, and - at least for the first year or so - people were standing ready to take her away if they knew..."

"You're the adult, Harry," Bill broke in heatedly. "You're the mature one, and you should've acted it!"

Harry gave him an incredulous look. "Bill... You're living with a Veela, so you know exactly how much or how little you can do when she's got her mind set on something. She can be made to see sense - I proved that with Gabrielle although it took me more than ten years - but I was suddenly saddled with not only a Veela, but one with the full complement of Weasley temper and determination on top of the Veela single mindedness. You know just as well as I do what would've been the result if I'd delivered her back to Shell Cottage. You would've had a Ginny-sized tantrum on your hands, and she would've up and disappeared again within a couple of days."

"That may be, but..."

"Instead," Harry pressed on, "I opted for the next best thing. I took her in and made her write Fleur and explain. I believed then - and I still do - that she'd be a lot safer with me than somewhere else with who knows what types are out there."

Bill snorted. "Yeah, right. That's why she's a mother at eighteen." Harry's eyes flashed.

"I'll have you know that I didn't touch her in any way that wasn't platonic before she was of age," he said somewhat sharply, "...despite daily hints the size of Hogwarts that she'd be more than appreciative if I did. And our first time was on our wedding night. I thought you knew me better than that."

Bill's eyebrows almost collided with his receding hairline. Oh...kay. Sorry." He took a deep breath. "Listen... I'm actually not against you as a son-in-law, even if I might come across like I am. I just want to understand what's going on here. Fleur is over the moon about this whole thing and that's a plus for you, but I haven't got the advantage of three years of correspondence with my daughter like she has." He wiped a hand across his face. "This whole thing has hurt me Harry. More than you can know."

Harry shot the older man a sympathetic look. "I can imagine," he said remorsefully, "and for what it's worth I'm sorry, although I'll point out that I had nothing to do with her running off in the first place." He looked speculative for a few moments. "Tell me Bill, how much do you know about Veela?"

Bill blinked – again. "I've been married to one for twenty years. I believe I know what I need to know."

Harry cocked an eyebrow at this. "I know you have, but have you ever researched Veela, or at least discussed Veela psychology with Fleur?"

Bill looked at him incredulously. "No, I haven't. What's that got to do with anything?"

"Nothing right now, but if you had, you would've been spared a great deal of hurt over the last few years."

"Explain!"

"Sure, but first... Didn't it ever strike you as strange that Fleur didn't seem to take Victoire disappearing as hard as you did?"

"Yes it did, but I gather it's because she knew all along," Bill growled, clearly unhappy that he'd been kept at several arm's length in this.

"No it's not, and Fleur didn't know until three weeks after she'd run off. She expected something like it to happen though, ever since I taught at Hogwarts. She recognised all the signs in Victoire's letters and, truth be told, I too had an inkling that something would happen, although I didn't foresee this."

Bill looked almost ready to blow up now. "What are you talking about?" he growled.

"Calm down Bill. Getting mad isn't going to solve anything." Harry gave his father-in-law a hard look. "I'm talking about Veela psychology and mate-seeking behaviour. I began reading about it just after I found out that Gabrielle was actually serious about wanting to marry me. Then at Hogwarts I noticed Victoire behaving in much the same manner, although she was more covert about it. It was quite disturbing to be honest. I mean, she was fourteen years old and I still remembered quite vividly the days when I changed her nappies. Still, I had an idea what was happening so I wrote Fleur to warn her about it. Maybe I should've written you too."

Bill did a credible imitation of a question mark. "Would you please just tell me what the hell you're talking about?"

"Right," Harry sighed. "What you of course know, but fail to realise consciously, is that your eldest daughter is Veela with all that it entails. She looks human, she sounds human and she acts human, but she's not. Not completely. You don't know exactly what that means because you haven't sought that knowledge, and your only other experience with adolescent Veela is Gabrielle, and even that was at a distance. You remember of course the crush she nurtured on me, and like everybody else you most likely wrote it down to me pulling her out of that bloody lake at the Tournament. You've probably even thought less than complimentary things about her when you found out that she'd carried it with her well into her twenties, right?"

"Yeah," Bill agreed, "I've thought more than once that she should get a grip and grow up."

Harry nodded. "You're far from the only one, I'm sure. The thing is however... She couldn't. Not until I managed to get it across to her that she and I would never happen, and it took quite a few attempts for her to realise it. The poor girl lived through hell for more than ten years because her instincts had bound her to someone unwilling."

Bill looked startled. "Please, get to the point Harry. Are we talking about bonds or something like that?"

"No, no bonds, and it isn't about love either. We're talking evolution. Instincts. You have to realise that despite appearances, at the very deepest bottom Veela are birds and when it comes to mating they act like it. They are compelled to mate with the most suitable male they acquaint themselves with, and their mating drive surfaces quite early in some instances – and even more so when measured with the human yardstick. Gabrielle was eleven - almost twelve - at your wedding, and Victoire was fourteen when I taught at Hogwarts. They could both have carried on like normal for years in other circumstances - Fleur did after all - but they both homed in on me very early."

"Wait. What do you mean when you say 'suitable'?"

"That varies slightly from one Veela to the next, but power - magical, mental and physical - is usually a factor, as is a demonstrated ability to survive. It wouldn't do for any songbird to mate to a male that might already be dead before the eggs hatch, would it?" Harry asked with a snicker. "Anyway, I believe that's why Veela spouses are usually ten-plus years the Veela's senior. You're not of course, but back in the day you were easily more experienced than your peers, and you radiate a confidence in yourself that would be hard for a Veela to ignore. I guess it's much the same with me in regards to Gabrielle." Harry got up from the bench and ducked into the house. A few seconds later he reemerged with two bottles of water, tossing one to Bill.

"Whatever the cause," he continued after draining half his bottle, "Victoire instinctively recognised me as the most suitable male back at Hogwarts and I cottoned on to what was happening." He heaved a sigh. "My problem was that it felt differently to me this time than it did when Gabrielle's drive awoke, so I couldn't rebuff her and make it stick, simply because very deep down in my subconscious mind I didn't want to. I wrote Fleur and explained what I'd observed and then I made sure to make myself as scarce as possible outside of classes, and as soon as I could I got the hell out of the country again, hoping against hope that she'd come to her senses and let her drive go towards someone else. I honestly never expected her to find me that next summer, but I was pretty much doomed when she did."

"Wait a second! Was that why you never came around while you were there?"

Harry's expression turned noticeably darker. "No. That had to do with your idiot baby brother and his wife. Mostly your brother though, although Hermione proved once again last year that she is still firmly convinced that she knows what's best for everybody, and that the only opinion worth dealing with is her own."

"What do you mean? When?"

"I mean that Ronald..."

"Not that," Bill interrupted. "About Hermione."

"She found Victoire last September, purely by accident." Harry shook his head in dismay. "She spotted her down in the market and confronted her, and no matter what was said to her she was hell bent on telling everybody else everything."

Bill frowned. "Why haven't I heard about that?"

"Because she doesn't remember it. She was about to hurt Victoire, and nobody hurts my family. I let her keep some flashes of it to see if it would make her think about how she deals with things." Bill swallowed when he saw Harry's expression.

"Right. Moving on then. When can I expect Dominique to pull something like this on us?"

"You can't," Harry grinned. "Well... You shouldn't that is, but who knows the inner workings of a teenaged witch's mind?"

"You've lost me now." Bill shook his head as if trying to clear it. "You've just told me that this behaviour is instinctual to Veela, and now you're telling me that she won't do it?"

Harry's grin widened. "Ah, but according to her mother, Dominique isn't Veela. That's something else you really should know." He shook a finger at the older man. "There are no such things as half Veela or quarter Veela. They either are or they're not, and Dominique is not. I can't tell you how or why, but you only have one Veela daughter and she's the only one capable of giving you Veela granddaughters, unless Louis gets with a Veela some day. According to Fleur, Dominique is a perfectly ordinary witch." Harry paused and grinned again. "Well... As ordinary as a Weasley is capable of being at any rate."

"It seems to me I need to have a serious chat with my wife soon. I can't believe I've never heard any of this before." Bill's mind was reeling with all the new information, and he was quite put out with himself for not knowing all this.

"Back to Victoire then. You said it wasn't about love either, but Fleur claims quite vehemently that Victoire loves you."

"Oh she does... She does, just as I love her. The mating drive is all about instincts, but there's nothing to prevent the Veela from falling in love with the one she chooses and vice versa."

"Thanks for clearing that up. That's a load off my mind." Bill really did look much relieved. "Now, what about her education? She's a mother at eighteen, how is she going to finish school?"

Harry smiled at his attempt at gaining the initiative. "She already has her NEWTs, Bill. She finished her exams just after our honeymoon. They added up to almost 6% better than Hermione's, and she has apprenticed with me ever since. She'll begin a three-year Arithmancy Mastery course at l'Université de la Magie in August, and if everything works out as planned she'll earn her fourth mastery when she's twenty-five."

Bill's jaw dropped. This was far beyond anything that could be achieved under the medieval apprenticeship laws that were still in effect in Britain.

"How is that possible? And which masteries are we talking about?"

"Well, the Arithmancy one is obvious from what I just told you. Besides that, she's my apprentice as I said, although that'll be suspended as long as she's at the university. When she's done there she'll be back with me full time, and I expect her to complete her training in another three years. Once done she'll be a Master Focus Crafter, and that drags along separate masteries in Runes and Enchantments on the side, bringing her total up to four. By then she'll have the choice to continue the shop that I'm running now, or to dive into one of her other fields, or perhaps do something neither of us have thought about yet. She can study for another four if that's what she wants."

Bill looked ready to faint. "That's... That's impossible! It can't be done in so little time."

"No it's not, and of course it can," Harry countered. "It just takes some tenacity and a lot of hard work. She'll have to work her arse off, but in the end she'll stand where nobody her age ever stood before." He smiled proudly. "And before you accuse me of working her to death... It's her idea and her ambition. I just figured out how she could achieve it."

Bill visibly deflated. He'd been about to throw exactly that accusation at Harry. "Okay, sorry," he apologised contritely. "How about you tell me how she's going to do it then?"

"Well... It's like this..."

...

"Mon ange?" Fleur peered around the door frame into the kitchen. "Is that really you, cooking?"

Victoire turned to face her. "Very funny!" She moved to embrace her mother in a firm hug. "...But yes, it is me and I am cooking. It's one of the things I've learnt over the last couple of years. Harry is a very good teacher."

"So I've heard people say," Fleur agreed, "but cooking?"

Victoire rolled her eyes. "Yes, mother. Cooking. Harry had to cook for those disgusting animals he lived with, ever since he was big enough to reach the stove-top. He began teaching me as soon as I moved in here." She turned again to tend to her pots.

Fleur peeked over her shoulder. "What are you making?"

"It's a créme chicken and vegetable soup. I have a garlic and basil bread in the oven to go with it, and a gratin of leftover ham and potatoes with a lot of herbs in it."

Fleur inhaled deeply. "Mmhh!" she exhaled. "This is something I've been missing. British food may suit the climate, but it's bland and fat compared to this."

"Mama..." Victoire shook her head with a groan. "Aren't you still the one doing the cooking?"

"Yes I am. Why?"

"Then why don't you cook the kinds of food you miss? The only rule we have about food here is that the cook decides the menu. With Dominique and Louis away at school it should be even easier for you to do the same, and when they're home I'm sure trying other kinds of food won't harm them."

Fleur looked ready to kick herself. "You know... I think I just might try that."

"I think you should," Victoire smiled. Then she sobered. "How is Papa taking all this?" she asked hesitantly.

Fleur was quick to gather her in a reassuring hug. "Better than I thought he would, but he's torn." She paused to think. "On one hand he's happy to know that you're safe and loved and happy, and he does like Harry - or at least the Harry he used to know. On the other hand he's hurt that it happened this way. He's upset that you ran off and left us - well him - to worry; that he didn't get to give you away at your wedding; and he's really not happy that you got married without us knowing at all." She stopped for a breath and to gauge the effect of her words before she continued.

"He's not thrilled about you having a baby already either, and he's fretting about your schooling."

"But Mama..."

"Yes, I know, but I didn't know how much I could tell him, so I didn't."

"Oh, Mama..." Victoire sighed in disappointment. "What about all the rest then? Have you never told him anything about Veela at all?"

"No, not really." Fleur coloured faintly. "I liked the way he saw me as merely a witch with some special talents, and I didn't want to jinx that. I should have told him when you left of course, or maybe even when we got your letter about the 'awesome Professor Potter'," she tried to tease, but it fell flat.

"That is not a laughing matter Mama!" Victoire hissed. "I was fourteen years old, and I had thoughts crashing through my head and feelings and urges racing through my body that I was in no way equipped to deal with. And to make it worse I was in both his classes. He's a fantastic teacher and I learned so much, but that year was absolute hell to get through. I felt so sorry for auntie Gabrielle for having to go through what she did for so long, and at the same time I wanted her to suffer even worse because she was the competition. I really couldn't handle it."

"I am sorry mon ange, I really am," Fleur tried to placate her. "Your father and I got together quite quickly, so I have only ever heard about these instances, and most of it from Gabrielle, so it's difficult for me to imagine it. I should not have joked with it." Victoire hugged her tightly, and Fleur revelled in the close contact with her eldest daughter that she hadn't had for so long.

"It's okay Mama. It's just that it hurt so much back then, and it still wasn't that long ago so I still get a flash from time to time. It is getting better after I've begun talking to auntie Gabi about it though. She understands better than anyone where I'm coming from, and she helps me understand it myself."

Fleur did a classic double-take. "You're talking to Gabrielle? I thought she'd hate you for this."

"She doesn't," Victoire shook her head, "but it's only this past year and a half or so that we've been talking... I wrote her after she began dating Armand-Gaston."

Fleur had to sit down. "Gabrielle is dating!" she asked, disbelief clear in her voice.

"Oops! I thought you knew. She's been seeing Armand-Gaston since last January, and from what I know they're really serious. She suspects he's going to pop the question this summer."

"Wow!" Fleur was floored. "Do you know him?"

"Not terribly well, although I've met him twice. He's a retired Master Auror. He left the force after he needed almost two months in l'Hôpital Magique d' Ste. Marthe to recover from bailing out a couple of rookies who made a rookie mistake during an arrest. He's 4-5 years older than Harry and much like him - quiet, determined, a friend to his friends, scary powerful and immune to the allure."

"He sounds like a good man. Good for Gabrielle that she's finally moved on."

"She did that five years ago, Mama. Harry looked her up - again - and finally made her understand that he would love to have her for a little sister, but never more than that. He was the one to introduce her to Armand-Gaston."

"I'll have to grill her one of these days."

"Sure Mama, but you're not here to talk about auntie Gabi's love life. At least not yet." Victoire gave her mother a stern glare. "Are you going to talk to Papa about Veela or do I have to?"

Fleur coloured again. "I shall do it, mon ange. It is hard though. I don't want him to change the way he sees me."

"I think it will just be small points you'll have to explain to him," Victoire soothed. "If I know Papa, he's tried to lay everything on Harry, and knowing Harry he'll have given Papa the basics in order to show him, I really left because I wanted to." She turned and expertly added egg yolk and cream to the soup.

"I appreciate that." Fleur looked genuinely relieved. "I think it will work better with me confirming what Harry has already told him." Fleur got a glint in her eyes. "Now, I want to hear..."

Whatever it was that she wanted to hear was drowned out by a wail from upstairs.

"Impeccable timing as usual," Victoire sighed, "just like his father he is." She turned to her mother. "It seems it's time for you to meet your grandson. I'll just go get him if you'll keep the soup from boiling."

A few minutes later, Fleur was cooing at a grumpy baby - who promptly lost any and all interest in his grandmother as soon as his mother provided him with the opportunity to latch onto a milk-heavy breast. Fleur was teary-eyed as she watched the homey scene unfold.

"I haven't told you about my Mastery-course, have I?" Victoire tried to distract her, both from Ian - who generally took a very dim view to having his meals interrupted - and from the questions she'd been about to ask when Ian woke up. She was not going to satisfy her mother's curiosity about her sex-life, thank you very much!

"No. No you have not," Fleur replied. "You haven't even told me what your subject is," she complained, and so Victoire began telling her mother about the Arithmancy course and the two minor courses in Runes and Enchantments, she'd be taking over the next three years. She told her how she was going to be a day-student, flooing to Bastia daily, and how Harry was going to teach her in the weekends to bring her up to mastery level in her side-subjects, and she defused the impending detonation about sixty-hour weeks by telling her that it was her own idea, just as Harry had had to tell Bill outside. All of it was interrupted at regular intervals by Fleur cooing at Ian, and by Ian grunting his appreciation with the vintage, temperature and bouquet of his meal, as well as his momentary objections when he was made to switch from one jug to the other.

The ladies were in a world of their own, until they were startled out of it by Harry bustling quietly about, finishing the cooking and setting the table. A quick look around confirmed that Bill was standing in the doorway, a bemused look on his face. Watching the scene - Ian finishing his lunch, and Victoire handing him over to Fleur and proceeding to put her clothes back in place - drove it home to him. Victoire had done a lot of growing up these past three years and she wasn't his little girl any longer. Well... Of course she'd always be his little girl, but now she was Ian's mother and Harry's wife before she was his daughter.

He looked closer, and any resentment he still might have harboured left him. Victoire's hair was half in a messy bun and half all over the place, and she had flour on her cheek and baby-drool in a trail down her neck. She was wearing a too large t-shirt - presumably Harry's - liberally applied with the same brand of drool; an old, uneven jersey skirt; and worn out, cheap Chinese cotton slippers - and she still managed to look more radiant than he'd ever seen her before, and that was saying something! It was hammered home by the loving gaze she laid on her son in her mother's lap, and by the tender embrace that Harry pulled her into when he came up behind her. The completely natural way she fit into his arms - and the completely besotted look on Harry's face as she did - made sure that Bill only had one more issue that needed to be addressed today, but that could wait an hour or two. Whatever was cooking smelled delicious, and he really wanted to enjoy his first lunch with his eldest daughter in almost three years without tension.

...

Meal eaten and topics for small-talk exhausted, Victoire looked at her father over the rim of her glass.

"You're almost vibrating," she informed him. "Whatever it is, let it out before you burst."

Bill blinked at her, and Fleur had to smother a snicker.

"Why?" he asked her in a barely audible voice. "Why this way?"

She sighed, then looked him straight in the eyes. "What else could I have done?"

"You could've talked to us."

"Really?" She arched a brow at him. "And you would've permitted your sixteen year-old, just-finished-OWLs, Veela daughter to quit Hogwarts and travel through Europe on her own, trying to track down an elusive, more-than-twice-her-age man whom she intended to live with from then on - not to mention seduce as soon as possible?"

"Well, no." Bill visibly flinched. "No of course not, but seeing that you were only ten months from being of age, it could hardly..."

"If I had told you anything, you would've locked me up and had me guarded, and staying would've condemned me to at least a year and most likely more in Hell, Papa," she cut him off. "I did not want to go through what auntie Gabrielle did. I had already been so lost and confused since I began reacting to Harry in fourth year, and it was getting worse as my body and my hormones caught up." Bill looked slightly queasy. "It was only going to escalate, and I would've been likely to Fireball some poor, innocent boy for asking me out." She paused to let her words take hold.

"The day I left I had a lead on where Harry was going to be a few days later. That was the first time in years anybody had had any idea where he was going to pop up - other than McGonagall when he came to Hogwarts - and I could probably have waited years for another chance like that to come up again. I had to take it." She looked at him pleadingly. "Please, dad. Please try and see my side of it. I know I hurt you all and I really hated doing it, but I was going crazy. I had to go to Harry!"

Bill was taken aback by the passion in her plea. "Okay, say I understand that. Why couldn't you tell us when you'd found him?"

"Because you still wouldn't have understood. If you'd known I was here with Harry, you would've had l'Gendarmerie Magique here to arrest him and pick me up to send me back to Britain. I couldn't risk that. I suspected already then that you didn't know as much about Veela as you should, and I knew that you'd react in true Weasley fashion. I had something I needed to do, and I succeeded in doing it." She flushed faintly. "Well, except for the quick seduction part obviously, but I was near him and he made sure to touch me a lot. Hugs and little touches and he'd hold my hand when we went shopping and such. It was never nearly enough, but it kept me sane enough to concentrate on learning, and I kept hoping that he'd come around."

"What do you mean, 'hoping he'd come around'?" Fleur was quick to ask. She had never been privy to the finer details of her daughter's first year in Harry's care, and being a woman she was notoriously nosy. "Didn't you discuss it with him?"

Victoire flushed again. "No I didn't. I didn't want to push too hard too early, so I just gave him a lot of hints that I'd welcome some erm... shall we say 'more direct personal attention' from him." Her flush deepened. "He never took them though," she added with a well-practised pout.

Harry snorted and Fleur giggled, both at Victoire's attempt at being delicate, and at Bill's top class imitation of a goldfish.

"What?" Victoire defended herself indignantly. "I was sixteen, and so confused and insecure, I could hardly see straight, and I was trying to catch my chosen who just happened to be thirty-five as well as my honorary uncle and someone who used to change my dirty nappies. He also had a reputation as being clueless about anything related to women, and he was revered as a hero by half the world," she huffed. "I couldn't exactly storm into his bedroom and go 'Oh by the way Harry, I'm here because I want you to marry me but that's for the slightly longer term. For the shorter term, would you please throw me down on your bed; tear the clothes off my innocent, nubile teenage body; push my ankles behind my ears and just go all animal on me'?" She batted her eyelashes, and then exploded with laughter at her father's horrified expression.

"I'm... I'm s-sorry dad," she hiccuped, "but you s-should see your f-f-face." She disappeared into gales of hysterical laughter again, loudly enough to set off Ian who was watching the proceedings from his baby-carrier at the end of the table. He was quite vocal about his displeasure with not being the focal point of the fun, but Harry managed to calm him down again.

"I'm sorry," she said again - more sincerely this time. "I know that's definitely not what you want to hear from your little girl. The sad thing about it is that I actually contemplated doing something like it at one point," she confessed, flushing a delicate shade of pink once again. "After a couple of months I was so out of it, I began planning how to sneak myself into his bed so he'd wake up in the morning to see me there beside him in nothing but a smile."

"Damn," Harry snapped his fingers. "Why didn't you?" The exaggerated wink was all that kept Bill from imploding.

"It occurred to me that it might freak you out enough to work against my long term plans, and even if it didn't, it would definitely mortify me enough to expose myself as the insecure little girl I was." Harry made a beeline for her, coming back from having successfully distracted Ian.

"You grew up, Chérie," he whispered as he embraced her from behind. "Much faster than you should have, but I'm ever so happy that you did."

Out loud he said: "I'm glad you didn't. I would probably still be hiding under the bed." Any ribbing that might have been doled out for that one was stayed when a tweeting sound was heard, and Victoire rose to answer the phone.

"Ici Victoire." The calm greeting was followed seconds later by a squeal that set Ian off again.

"Really? He did? When will it be?"

"I'm so happy for you. Congratulations."

"Yes of course, come on over."

"We have family visiting."

"Guess."

"Got it in one."

"No, no trouble at all."

"Yes of course they will."

"Of course. We'll have the Champagne cooled when you get here."

She put the phone down and turned to face the others with a huge smile on her face. "Armand-Gaston proposed yesterday! They're coming over for dinner. They're really getting married!" She virtually bounced as she spoke, and her rushed words came out in a jumble. Fleur smiled widely and Bill just looked clubbed. Obviously Fleur had an idea of what was going on, but he had no clue whatsoever.

"Eh?" was his both eloquent and intelligent comment.

"Ah, yes..." Victoire had an amused look on her face from seeing her father that lost for words. "You don't know, do you? Harry introduced auntie Gabi to a friend of his around the time we got married. They hit it off really well, and they've been dating for more than a year. Well, Armand-Gaston proposed last night, and they're getting married at Christmas." She bounced again. "Oh, and they're coming over for dinner tonight."

Bill just gaped, trying to come to terms with the thought of his sister-in-law getting married. He, like everybody else, had taken it as a certainty that she'd live her life as a spinster once she failed to catch Harry, and now that certainty had been blown out of the water, just like a few others had been on this day. Then he caught hold of another belief that had been eradicated.

"Wait... You and Gabrielle are talking? As in being civil and not cursing each other? And how does she know where you are anyway?"

Victoire's eyeroll was impressive. "Harry, get Papa something stronger than his wine, would you please?" She turned to Bill.

"No, we are not being 'civil' with each other, but you're right about the cursing. I'd be an idiot to do that anyway. She's so powerful, she'd hand me my derrière in a paper bag long before I ever got a spell off. No, auntie Gabi is my best friend and she's helped me enormously. As I've already told Maman, she was the only one I could think of who would have any idea what I was going through, and she did. She's been a godsent, and she's been cheering me on about Harry, about Ian and about university, and she's been there for me when I needed someone to cry on. She's been my big sister, and she's done as much to help me as Harry has. I'm so happy for her I could burst. She can finally get to live like she deserves."

Should we head home and leave you to it?" Fleur butted in, her whole demeanour screaming that going home now was the very last thing she wanted to do.

"What?" Victoire spun to face her. "You don't want to celebrate your sister getting engaged? Why do you think I told her to come here?" She turned to Harry. "And here I've thought for so many years that I inherited my intelligence from my mother. Do you have any idea where I might have gotten it from?"

"Behave, Chérie." Harry shot her a 'bad idea' look. "Your parents have had quite a few surprises today so it's perfectly understandable if they're not at their best. They're both very smart people, and one day they'll send that one back to bite you."

"Thank you Harry," Fleur said primly, "and you're right. That one will be returned to sender sooner or later. With interest!" She mock glared at Victoire. "As for you, mu darling daughter... Impudent brat! Yes, I would very much like to celebrate my sister's engagement, but we're guests here, and I wasn't going to assume that we'd be automatically included."

"Oh, Mama..." Victoire sighed. "You are here today - and tomorrow - because we want you here. I told auntie Gabi to come over because you're here. If you hadn't been, we could've caught up with them some time next week along with Grammère and Grandpère." She giggled. "Just imagine the shock we would've given them." Fleur went wide-eyed.

"You mean Mama and Papa know about you?"

"On the contrary. That's why it would've made for a really nice surprise." Then her mischievous smile faded. "Actually we're kind of counting on you to help us break the news - as old as they are - to them. I'm not sure how they'll react to Harry marrying me when he rejected auntie Gabi."

"Oi!" Harry objected. "I didn't reject anyone. I just didn't think it alright to tie myself to a twelve year-old at eighteen, and later I discovered that although I love Gabrielle to pieces, I was never in love with her, and to me that's a condition for marriage."

"I know, Love," Victoire soothed, "but that's how it looks for them, especially Grammère. Auntie Gabi is their baby girl, and Grammère - being Veela - knows exactly how it's been for her. Your best defence will probably be what you just said, that as a human you married because you were in love and not because of instinct. Mama and auntie Gabi backing you up will probably help a lot too. Don't worry too much though. They'll end up loving you, but you may have a bit of a rough path to get there." She looked at Fleur pleadingly. "Please Mama? I know it's of my own making, but I really don't want them hating Harry. He hasn't done anything to deserve that."

Fleur smiled at her. "Of course I'll help you, even though I probably shouldn't. When do you go there?"

"I think some time next week, hopefully before my idiot uncle rats us out to the papers. I'd rather they learn it from us than from l'Gazette Gaulois. That wouldn't be pretty. Fleur and Harry shuddered along with her.

"Imagine once the Prophet gets the story," Harry's expression darkened. "'Veela entices The-Man-Who-Won into marriage', or 'Boy-Who-Lived marries dark creature'." He scowled. "That's one of the reasons we live here rather than there. Of course I'd sue them for something like that, but Veela are still classified that way in Britain. Sometimes I regret I didn't just leave them to their own devices."

"Maybe you should make that a speech in front of the Wizengamot?" Bill suggested calmly. "They're the ones who do everything to keep things the was they are after all."

"Nah," Harry conceded defeat. "It's not like it's going to change anything anyway, and as a French citizen I probably couldn't even get in."

Victoire smiled impishly. "We'll send them a few pictures from the wedding," she grinned. "Then I can thank them for allowing the press and the hangers-on to chase you out of their country."

"Oh, wedding pictures!" Fleur exclaimed. "I need to see them right away!"

"We only have one," Victoire was quick to disappoint her.

"But you said..."

"Pictures, in plural, I know. I meant from our wedding in two months time."

"You're not married?" Bill looked at her incredulously.

"Of course we are."

"But... why have a wedding then?"

"We got married at the Mayor's office with only the Mayor, Andromeda and Teddy there. This time we're going to do it right. We want our family to celebrate with us, and we want you to lead your daughter up the aisle, Fleur to bawl her eyes out in the front row, and personally I want two generations of women weeping because they see Victoire and realise that they can't hold a candle to her," Harry explained. "We just need to figure out how to avoid inviting your idiot baby brother."

"Why not invite him?"

"Because I don't want to have to break my husband out of l'Ile d'If," Victoire replied curtly. "He didn't limit his idiocy to volunteering as Harry and aunt Ginny's best man you know. He was the one who fed them that story in the first place. He claimed it was to 'help his sister by making Harry own up to his feelings'. Moron! I don't care how much he's my uncle, he'll never be welcome here, and after aunt Hermione's display in the market last year, I'm not sure she'll be either."

Fleur's head shot up at the revelation. "I never knew," she gasped. "I always thought it was that horrible Skeeter woman at it again."

"It was, but she got the story from Ron and didn't confirm it. 'If I can't trust your best friend then who can I trust?' she had the gall to ask. I told her that Ronald was about as trustworthy as herself and left it at that," Harry replied. "I would've loved to sue her into the gutters, but I was in a bit of a hurry to get out of the country before the urge to hurt Ron got out of hand."

"That's a thing of the past," Victoire said decisively. "For now we need to cool the Champagne for auntie Gabi and Armand-Gaston, and I want to celebrate that I have my parents back as well. Harry, Papa, you get to take care of the bubbles, and decant a couple of bottles of red too while you're at it. Mama, you grab Ian and then we're going shopping. I just changed the menu for tonight." With that the imperious - and impetuous - young woman sailed out the door, her mother following close behind with Ian in her arms.

Bill stood gobsmacked as the two women departed. Harry just shrugged his shoulders.

"I would've thought you'd be used to it by now, old man. We have our orders, so we'd better get busy. Never cross Veela on a mission."

Sunday morning had seen Fleur regaling the Potters with the different reactions to their revelations that she'd witnessed the weekend before. Held up against Teddy's letter to Victoire that detailed the final score on their wager it made for a few surprises, not least that they decided to invite Ginny to the wedding in July, and the letter she'd sent with Fleur actually had them looking forward to seeing her. In the end every Weasley except Ron would receive an invitation, although Hermione's was to be held back until she'd had a chance to react to the restoration of the memories, Harry had repressed the previous year, and it wouldn't be delivered unless she could admit that she'd been in the wrong. Both Fleur and Bill were taught the charm to lift the modification, and they were told to tell Hermione to phone Harry once she'd thought things over.

Now they were standing in the Burrow's kitchen, having interrupted the traditional Weasley Sunday dinner, and everybody wanted to know everything about Harry and Victoire here and now - preferably yesterday. Instead of information tough, what everybody got - well almost everybody - were invitations to the wedding ceremony of Harry and Victoire Potter, coinciding with the official naming of Ian Henri Potter.

Almost everybody... Ron didn't have to say anything - they could all see clearly in his face what went through his mind, and it wasn't positive. Hermione looked confused and hurt. Why wouldn't her oldest friend want her there for such an occasion? She got her answer a few minutes later when Fleur took her into the sitting room and cast the charm on her. Her rage at what she saw as a gross violation built up for about fifteen seconds, and then deflated completely as she realised how she'd acted and what she'd said to Victoire. Fleur clarified it for her.

"You were about to hurt Victoire, Hermione, and in Harry's mind that's the worst crime imaginable." She passed her a business card. "Review your relationship with Harry - what you've done and what you haven't - for a few days, and then call him. You haven't lost him completely but you're out of chances. You may or may not receive an invitation - both to the ceremony and to rebuild your ties with Harry - but you need to decide if you would want to go there without Ronald. Victoire doesn't want to have to break her husband out of l'Ile d'If, so Ronald will not be invited no matter what." With that Hermione was left standing alone in the middle of the room. Numbness crept through her as she examined her newly restored memories of last September once more.

"What have I done?" The whisper went unanswered.

...

In the meantime Bill was getting swamped with questions in the kitchen. Most important to everybody seemed to be 'but aren't they already married?'.

"Yes they are," Bill finally told them, "But they were married at the Mayor's office with only Andromeda and Teddy there..." More than half a dozen Weasleys turned to look accusingly at Teddy, who in turn was blissfully reliving his very successful date this afternoon. The prolonged silence finally alerted him that something was off in the room, and he was startled to see every face in the room turned towards him.

"What'd I do?"

"You've known where Harry and Victoire were all along," Molly accused him. "How could you not tell us?"

Teddy sighed. "Yes and no. Gran always knew where Harry was, and I've known since I was ten. He's my godfather after all. I didn't know Victoire was with him until we got there the day before they got married. I was his best man, so it was a little hard not to know who he got married to." He looked at Molly piercingly. "I never told anybody because Harry and Gran told me not to, and I didn't tell you about Victoire because they didn't want anybody to know. It's called respecting people's wishes, and it's a brilliant concept if you want to stay close to people you like," he explained with a venomous glare in Ron's direction.

"Teddy?" George's suspicions instantly rose at his display. "Why do you look at Ron that way?" Ron visibly flinched.

"Because that moron is the one solely responsible for chasing Harry out of the country," he snapped. "He fed that load of bullshit to the Prophet back then. Personally I think Harry was too restrained when he retaliated. I would've left the idiot as a eunuch!" The gathering in the kitchen quickly devolved into a free-for-all after that little gem was uncovered.

Bill shook his head at his family; looked at Teddy questioningly, and then left after intercepting Fleur as she came back from the living room. Teddy wasn't far behind. Ron on the other hand was in for a long night, trying to defend indefensible actions taken two decades ago, and already in hot waters after his blow-up at George's birthday party, he definitely wasn't looking forward to it.

...

At the same time, a thousand miles away, two people were looking down on their son in his crib, smiling at the snuffling sounds he made in his sleep.

"Are you happy with how things went Chérie?"

She slid her arms around him. "I am. I felt bad about Papa, although it was mostly Mama's fault for not educating him as she should have. I'm happy that he approves, and I'm looking forward to having him give me to you." She looked pensive for a moment. "I wonder how aunt Hermione will take it."

"We'll know soon enough. Your dad threatened to rat out Ron, and if he does, that'll keep keep her occupied long enough to cool down about me. The question is if their marriage will survive it." He looked sad. "According to your mum he had a meltdown at George's, so he's in trouble already. I'm not sure she's going to stand for it, but it's their life. We have our own and we're going to live it our way."

Victoire burrowed her face into his neck. "Our way, always."

A/N2: That's it folks. It's uneven, it's longer than strictly necessary, but it's here.

A few points: Yes, I'm sure that I've made mistakes in the few French phrases I've used. My French is sketchy, but I thought it belonged here.

Yes, Harry and Victoire's daily language is French. They live in France, Harry is a French citizen while Victoire holds double citizenship. Harry would've learnt French during his time in Tahiti, but he probably already began in earnest just after he bought the property in France, Ian's first language will be French, and Victoire is bilingual (I can't see Fleur not teaching her language to her children to the point where they're fluent enough to not rise any eyebrows when they speak it) but considers French her main language due to her Veela heritage and how that's perceived in either of her home countries. In this story I imagine Harry and Victoire speaking French with each other; Victoire's conversation with Fleur would be in French too, until they become aware that Bill is there; and the rest is English.

Happy reading

/Itsme